It Should Have Been Me
by Nodomme
Summary: Top Gear, Richard Hammond, James May, Jeremy Clarkson. There are moments in life when the unlikely happens. Those "it should have been me, not you" moments.


**It Should Have Been Me**

_**Prelude in D flat Major, Op. 28, 15 'Raindrop' - Frederic Chopin**_

_"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions". - (Hamlet, act IV, scene V)_

_. . . . ._

"_Avoid large, heavy objects, travelling at a high rate of speed"_ Richard read out loud from the tiny, carefully folded paper that fell out of his fortune cookie as be broke it into two pieces. He absently ate one of the halves in one go and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  
"That could mean bloody anything."  
Jeremy, who never paid much attention to anything that didn't involve himself, hastily looked up from his copy of _Autocar _and shrugged at him.  
"Are you sure you didn't buy a misfortune cookie, sir gloomy?" James teased him and Richard delivered a kick to his shin.

"_Fuck, _that hurts" James swore and glared darkly at him. "That was uncalled for."  
"Wanker." Richard muttered.  
"Arse."  
"Guys" Jeremy said from the sofa. "Have you heard about the new WV Beetle coupe, it's fucking horr-"  
"No" Richard and James interrupted Jeremy at the same time and he rolled his eyes.  
"You'd rather argue over a meaningless fucking note from a disgusting cookie than make fun of the worst car in the world?"

"Yes" Richard said and James made no attempt to disagree with him.

"You two are cocks, you know that right?" Jeremy got up and smacked them both in the head with his rolled-up magazine before leaving the room.

James hurried to occupy Jeremy's spot, still warm, and sat down and put his cup of tea on the low table in front of him. Richard followed him shortly and placed himself a little too close for James' liking. He'd never been very good with physical contact. There was only one thing in the world he managed having close, and that was his cat Fusker. He coughed awkwardly when Richard's thigh touched his and tried to move as far away from him as the couch would possibly allow. Of course, the distance was not far enough to prevent the claustrophobic feelings from kicking in. He grabbed his mug of tea nervously and took a look at his Rado Ceramica, (he couldn't even imagine wearing an inexpensive watch) hoping the time would pass quicker. Unfortunate as ever, it didn't, and with every second passing Richard seemed to enclose the tiny gap between them. Eventually James got up, excusing himself with that he had to stretch his legs; a believable excuse from a man his age. Richard just watched him and shook his head, grinning to himself.

"What?" James demanded to know and put his cup down on the sink feeling ever so uncomfortable.

"Nothing" he said, smiling. "Come back."  
"Pardon?" James asked awkwardly.  
"Come back to the couch" Richard demanded.  
"Erm... alright" James was not one to obey orders, but Hammond was another story.

He sat down awkwardly next to Richard and tried his best not to feel uneasy. James intangibly

tried to shift away from Richard, but a warm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't" Richard said gently and looked at James.  
"Okay" he swallowed loudly and looked away.  
"May?" Richard demanded his attention. "Look at me, mate."

James met his eyes with a struggle, cheeks reddened slightly from Richard's intense gaze. Before James' instincts had time to react (usually leading to him moving away quickly, leaving the room shaky and scared) Richard leaned forwards and kissed him, parted lips gently pressed against his. James was too in shock to react but his subconscious slowly got the better of him. He leaned into Richard's kiss, letting his tongue explore his lips and put his hand around Richard's neck, biting his bottom lip gently. He responded by groaning softly into their kiss and pulled his fingers through James' hair.

James pulled away, out of breath with his heart beating faster than he was aware it could manage. Richard gave him a sly little smile and James coughed awkwardly.  
"We should..." he pointed towards the corridor Jeremy had walked down a couple of minutes ago.  
"Yes" Richard stood up and offered his hand to James, who stared at it suspiciously.  
"_What?_"

"I don't know where that's been" James pointed out with disgust and Richard rolled his eyes.  
"Come on" he stared at James until he gave in and grabbed his hand, letting himself be pulled up.

. . . . .

"Listen, chaps" Andy, their ever so serious producer, said and whistled to get everybody's attention.  
"Before any of you morons even consider _looking_ at one of those Vampire Dragsters, there are some very important safety instructions you need to know."  
"Let Hammond try it and we'll see if it's safe" Jeremy suggested brightly and Andy glared at him.  
"No. These are some seriously dangerous vehicles and if anything goes wrong, you need to know what to do" Andy continued, ignoring Jeremy who rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.  
Richard was listening half-heartedly making some notes on a paper. It was quite ironic how James was paying more attention than both Jeremy and Richard combined, when it was Richard who was going to be in one of those devilish things in only a matter of hours. James elbowed him and glared at him, hoping that Richard somehow understood the May-language.

He rolled his eyes at James but seemed to pay more attention. Well, as much attention as he ever paid.

"If you'd be unlucky enough to have a crash" Andy informed them. "You'll either listen to what I'm about to say or die."  
James studied Richard and saw how his smiled had gone from cockish to a little uneasy. During the years James had known him, he hadn't seem him get uneasy very often. He nudged Richard's ankle gently under the table with his toe in a strange attempt of comforting him, and Richard smiled

helplessly at him and shrugged.

. . . . .

20th of September, thus dreadful day.

Avoid large, heavy objects, travelling at a high rate of speed.

Speed kills.

. . . . .

Jeremy had to literally hold James back to prevent him from running out on the track when Richard's dragster's tire went and Richard crashed at 288 mph. He had to drag him indoors, lock the door behind them and sit James down on the couch. For this once, James couldn't care less about physical contact. He put his arms around Jeremy, hugging him tightly. Although it confused Jeremy at first, he hugged back, trying to calm down his hysterical mate.  
"He's alright" he said and "don't worry. Everything is fine."  
James' heart told a different tale.  
"I have to see him" James managed quietly and that was that. Nobody could hold him back.

Richard was unconscious when James got there, out of breath from running. He was stopped by paramedics who told him to return to the hangar but James refused and pushed them out of the way, sprinting towards the ambulance.

Richard was dirty. Blood was coming from his left eye and his head, and a knife cut through James' guts. Richard looked broken. James felt his stomach twist and immediately regret looking at him. He was certain that image wasn't going to leave his retina for a long, long while. James didn't even watch as the emergency helicopter picked Richard up and flew away with Richard, James' heart and James' hope.

. . . . .

There are moments in life when the unlikely happens. Those "it should have been me, not you" moments. As James sat next to Richard's hospital bed for the seventh night in a row, tears finally came steaming down his cheeks. The doctor's had told him Richard was stable. Not improving, not getting worse; just stable. James never ever cried. In fact, he barely knew how to handle emotions at all. It was a couple of years ago since Richard and him first kissed, and he realised that it was somewhere then he'd fallen in love with him. Being James in a nutshell he hadn't known how to handle it. In fact, he'd never even told Richard about his feelings, and he doubted Richard knew anyway, with James being so uneasy when it came to touch. Even Richard's touch tended to scare him sometimes. The soft touch of Richard's hand against his cheek.

James closed his eyes, letting the tears steam down his tired, worn face. He grabbed Richard's bony fingers and stoke them softly.  
"I should have gone, not you" he whispered to no one in particular. "It should have been me. You should be here whilst I should not.

Please, come back Hamster."

He felt his heart break inside his chest; it was so obvious.

Richard wasn't going to come back, not ever.


End file.
